Goodbye
by She's a Star
Summary: Alternate universe. After the first performance of Spectacular Spectacular, the Duke requests to speak to Satine.


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Goodbye

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by She's a Star

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Disclaimer: Moulin Rouge belongs to good ol' Bazzie. Let's Dance, which is used a bit in this fic, belongs to...ME! Hahaha! Er...sorry.

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Author's Note: I've been planning to do this for quite sometime. It's very...strange. I felt a bit weird when writing it, probably because it seems as though it could never happen. I apologize for any OOC-ness, but this was just one of those things that I absolutely HAD to write. You all know what I mean.

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I'd finally learned how to fly.

As the scarlet curtain swung shut in front of us, I somehow knew that if I reached to touch my back, I'd find silken snow white wings. My heart was soaring so high that I feared it would never come back down, and I could only express my joy in countless smiles and giddy tears that streamed down my cheeks.

He was with me again, his fingers entwined with mine, a boyish grin lighting up his entire face. The day I'd first met him, I thought it impossible that I could love him any more. A week later, I loved him with even more passion, and thought the same.

Now, I loved him so deeply, so brilliantly that I was sure my heart would burst at any moment.

He pressed his lips to mine, and the perfection was so pure that I feared in seconds I would open my eyes and find myself cold and alone once more.

But it was no dream.

Or perhaps it was, and all my dreams had finally come true.

Crimson and white rose petals rained down from the sky, caressing our faces with their smoothness and light, sweet scent.

"I love you," he said, and the thrill of being in love with him, of him being here holding my hand, was so much that I couldn't help but let out a little shriek of joy and throw my arms around him.

Laughing, he spun me around and lifted my feet from the floor, and in that moment, I truly did fly. The world seemed like a haze to me, our surroundings blurred colors and nearly shapeless forms that could have been people. Only Christian was clear.

And then-

"Satine."

The world revived itself in all its startling clarity, and Christian lowered me to the floor. 

The Duke stood before us. His expression betrayed no anger, no jealousy. His face was blank.

He hadn't ever called me Satine before, not like that. It was always 'My sweet' or 'My dear', drenched in such sickly sweet emotion that I'd always felt I would drown in his false love when he addressed me.

Instinctively, I prepared to answer him in the aloof, breathy tone of the Sparkling Diamond, but realized I couldn't. She had died that night as soon as the curtain closed: perhaps in some alternate universe, she was lying in my poet's arms, taking her last breaths.

But I wasn't the Sparkling Diamond any longer. Perhaps I had never been. 

"You can't destroy us now," I informed him angrily, my voice alive with a passion that I had always only reserved for my acting. "You can't take us apart. Just go away, find some other lowly whore who won't hate herself for pretending to love you."

He ignored me.

"Can I have a word with you?"

A shudder ran up and down my spine as I remembered the previous night, his hands snaking hungrily over my body, his teeth sinking into my bare shoulder. In all my years of selling myself, never once had I felt that dirty. 

I couldn't bear to ever feel that way again.

"I don't want anything to do with you," I responded fervently. "You aren't worthy of civil conversation...you're a monster, and while you flaunt your money and your fancy title, it still can't hide your fangs."

Still, his expression didn't change.

I felt Christian squeeze my hand reassuringly, and he began to lead me away from the Duke.

"Please," the Duke requested tonelessly. "Do attempt to be civil. You're a whore, and while you flaunt your poet and your diamonds, they still can't hide your sins."

I looked over at Christian to find his blue-gray eyes flashing with fury, and he opened his mouth to respond.

I silenced him by rising a finger to his lips.

"Very well," I said coolly to the Duke. 

We walked to my dressing room in silence, and as soon as I shut the door, he began to speak.

"Contrary to what you must believe, my dear, I never meant to hurt you."

His voice was cold and hard, and yet somehow, inexplicably, I knew that he spoke the truth.

"Despite your intentions, you did hurt me," I returned evenly. "You hurt all of us."

He laughed; a short laugh, devoid of the slightest trace of humor. "I suppose the monster in me took delight in that. It is, to say the least, exhilarating, to suddenly have power over so many after you've considered yourself weak your entire life."

I knew what he meant. Before I'd come to the Moulin, I'd lived an awful life; dirt poor and worthless. Suddenly, I was showered in diamonds and lustful stares from so many men.

It was indeed exhilarating.

"You kept your facade up marvelously, I must say," he continued. "Your acting skill are stunning, Satine. If it weren't for one occurrence, I would have never believed you were keeping up an act in the first place."

"What do you mean?" I asked, curious.

"Do you remember that morning when rehearsals had just started, when I requested that we have an early breakfast together?" he asked.

I nodded, a fond smile dancing across crimson-stained lips. 

_"Shall we dance, Mademoiselle?"_

"I don't dance."

"Oh yes, how silly of me...of course_ you don't dance. You only do every night."_

"That's not me. That's...her."

"Her?"

"The Sparkling Diamond."

"Ahhh, I see. Well, if you don't mind, I could attempt to teach you."

"You remember," the Duke said, a slight hint of a smile forming on his own face. "Yes, well, I came in a bit early, and neither you nor the writer noticed my presence. You were giggling, joking, dancing..."

He paused, looking rather grim.

"I knew then that if you truly loved me, the way that you loved the writer, you wouldn't be icy and refined. You would be free."

He sounded regretful, almost sad.

"So you knew?" I asked slowly. "You knew before, and you didn't do anything?"

There was a long silence before he answered.

"Part of me didn't want to believe it," he responded. "I practically had myself convinced that you were just friends with the writer, or you were leading him on for some reason I wasn't aware of. You always seemed fond of me when we were together, and yet after that moment, I always knew that you didn't care for me."

He paused.

"The air was empty around us," the Duke finished. "When you and the writer were together, I felt something surrounding you." He laughed again, another humorless laugh. "Surprising, isn't it, that I can feel anything besides greed and jealousy?"

It _was_ surprising, and yet I wasn't quite sure how to reply.

"Well," I started carefully. "I-"

"You don't have to lie to me anymore, girl," he said almost gently. "You've done that far too long."

"I don't know what to say," I confessed. "I just...it's all so strange. You've changed so many times in my eyes. Well, first, I thought that you were Christian, and then just some clueless rich man, and then..."

The memories of his hands on me resumed once more, and I looked away from his face.

"Then I thought you were mad," I said to the carpet. "And now....I just don't know what to think anymore."

"I would say I'm sorry, but we both know that apologies are worthless," he replied. "But my dear, you must know that I love you very much."

I'd heard so many 'I love you's throughout my life, and had thought all of them to be pointless. None meant anything to me, none earned a place in my heart.

Until Christian's.

And now, oddly, the Duke's.

"You must realize that when that prostitute confirmed what I'd been so desperately fearing all along, I practically went mad," the Duke said. "I'm almost certain that I did. But I cared for you so deeply, and when you were staring down at Christian, I knew...and I was struggling, attempting to do anything in my power to keep you with me."

I could no longer blame him for hurting me.

Christian had done the same thing; gone mad earlier that night, on that very stage, shaking me roughly with hands not his own and screaming out madness. 

_"Tell me you don't love me!!!"_

He'd been trying to keep me with him, trying not to let me fade away into the arms of another man.

I couldn't hate the Duke for doing something that the person I loved more than anything else in the world had done as well.

"I love him," I said before even realizing the words were leaving my lips. "I love Christian so much."

An odd, sad sort of smile made its way across the Duke's face.

"I know, my dear," he said gravely. "Storm clouds may gather..."

"And stars may collide," I finished. 

"I want you to go with him," the Duke said after a moment of silence. "I want you to go and be happy and have your fairy tale ending."

"Thank you," I responded, truly grateful. "Thank you so much."

In a spur-of-the-moment action, I flung my arms around him and pecked his cheek. He patted my back awkwardly, looking a bit uncomfortable. 

"Someday you'll find love," I promised, not quite sure.

He just studied me for a moment, with almost frightening intensity.

Finally, he spoke.

"Goodbye."

Once again, I felt positive I could fly.

"Goodbye," I responded, breaking away from him and fleeing from my dressing room. I was ready to run back down to the stage, and yet something seemed to hold me back.

On the other side of the door, I could hear irregular breathing, and wondered vaguely if the Duke was crying.

"Thank you," I whispered once more.

And finally free, I sped back to the stage and into my true love's waiting arms.

FIN


End file.
